Angela's rack and breaks

The first time I met Angela, I was in Click's, a pool hall that I frequent.  Mostly, I go there for the atmosphere. They have the good taste to have mostly rock and roll on the jukebox, unlike some of the country bars.  Also, it's a little brighter in there. She was shooting pool by herself on the table next to mine.  She's tall and thin, not normally the type I'm attracted to, but there was something about the way she moved - the way she seemed to radiate self-confidence.  Also, the cracking sound that the balls made when she broke the rack told me she was hitting that rack hard.  Most girls don't break properly, but this one was putting some power into it.

 
Now, I'm always a sucker for a pretty girl that can actually shoot pool, so I watched her surreptitiously as she moved around the table, selecting and dropping her shots with the aplomb of a professional. She was wearing loose fitting clothes and long slacks, with short sleeves on her blouse.  Her arms looked lean and strong; corded muscles played and danced under the skin of her forearms as she manipulated the cue.  I didn't want to appear to be staring, so I went back to my game and my beer.  I shot a couple of more racks, and was racking the balls again, when she 
came over, and in a voice deeper than I expected, asked if I wanted to play a few games.

 
"Sure", I said.   I'd already finished racking, so I invited her to break.  She obliged, snapping the cue ball into the rack as explosively as I ever had, and proceeded to run the table. I didn't get a shot!  I figured it was just luck, but as the afternoon wore on, she beat me more often than not, so I was pretty impressed.  I'm no Minnesota Fats, but I know my way around a pool table, and it's a rare occasion I don't come out ahead. This was going to be one of those occasions.  All the time we were shooting, I got the pleasure of watching her move around the table with a feline, athletic grace that I found very stimulating. Her high cheekbones and deepset brown eyes were quite attractive, I thought, and more than once, she caught me watching.  She wasn't beautiful, by any stretch of the imagination, but she was sexy. The little smile that played across her lips when she saw me watching her told me she knew it.


"Had enough?" she laughed, as she sank the 8-ball again.  
 

"That's it for me," I said.  "I know when I'm beaten."
 

"No, you probably don't," she laughed again "But you will, if you play your cards right."


"What do you mean by that?"  I asked.


"Oh, you'll see.  Let's go get something to eat.  I'm starved."
 

I was kind of stunned, really.  I've never been much good at picking women up in bars, or anywhere else, for that matter. I'm pretty tall, about 6' 1", and kind of thin, at 175 pounds, so I don't automatically attract women.  They seem to go for the bigger, more muscular guys than me, usually, and I've learned that lesson often enough that I don't even bother trying anymore. Once women get to know me, I'm a pretty nice guy, considerate, open doors, all that stuff, then they like me.  But that first impression usually makes or breaks you in bars, and it usually broke me. So, like I said, I was surprised. Not too surprised to say yes, but surprised, just the same.  
 

We went to a local place, good food, not too much grease, and they wipe the tables between customers.  I've eaten in worse places.  Angela ate like a horse.  The girl was thin, but she was really packing it away.  I was impressed.  I'm not much into eating, myself, that's why I'm skinny, I guess, but she didn't have that problem. While we were eating, I couldn't stop watching her arms. I wanted to touch them.  Her forearms looked hard, and sinewy. Her hands were fairly big, with long, strong-looking fingers. I didn't know her well at all, and didn't want to get personal, but it seemed like a fairly innocuous question, so I asked.
 

"So, do you, like, work out, or something?" I asked.


"Oh, a little," she said, batting her eyes and smiling. "I have a Solaflex at my apartment, and these grip things I squeeze to keep my hands strong.  I find a strong grip useful at times."
 

"You look like you have strong grip.  Your arms look pretty muscular."  Now that I'd broken the ice about working out, I felt bold enough to pursue it further.


"I have real strong arms. You want to try arm wrestling me?" She smiled, but it looked more predatory than the smile I'd seen before.  
 

"Sure," I said.  Like I'd mentioned before, I'm thin, but I'm wiry.  I've surprised more than one guy who figured that his larger arms meant he had stronger arms.  I was anxious for an excuse to hold her hand, even if it was in a contest of strength. I put my arm up on the table there in the restaurant, and she locked grips with me.  Her hand was almost as large as mine, and her fingers were probably longer. There was no 'give' in it, either.  As she tightened her grip in preparation, I could feel the power in there. Her hand was hard.  
 

"Go whenever you're ready," she said.  Her cockiness about this was a bit unnerving. I was, after all, a guy, and males are supposed to be stronger, especially in the upper body. I started to push against her hand, slowly, at first, to keep from 'hurting' her (what a laugh). When she didn't move, I pushed harder, until I was pushing as hard as I could.  She just sat there, with a smile on her lips.  She was holding me, not moving, and it looked to me like it didn't take much effort on her part.  I really threw myself into it, and was still unable to budge her.  Then she asked if I was ready.  I must have looked really shocked, because she laughed at the expression on my face, then just slammed my hand down to the table.  I grunted a little with the pain, and she just laughed again, and let go.


"Are you OK?"  she asked.
 

"Unless you count my ego, I'm fine," I grumbled.  It was obvious to both of us that whacking my hand on the table had been no sweat for her.  I was impressed, and I was aroused. Strong girls always turn me on, and this was a strong girl.

 
"Hey, don't feel bad.  You did pretty well, for a thin guy. I'm really strong. Most guys get mad when I beat them, but you didn't. I like that."  Somehow, those words took the sting out of  the red spot on the back of my hand.


"How could I get upset?  I always wanted to meet a girl stronger than me, and I guess there's probably lots of them, but I've never met one."


"So you're attracted to strong women, eh?" She had a mischievous smile on her face.  "So, what attracts you about them?"
 

"I think maybe the idea that a strong woman could do whatever she wanted to me, and I wouldn't able to stop her. I think that's exciting."
 

"And a little scary, too, I'll bet", she said.  "Even more scary if you don't know the woman very well, so you don't know what she's capable of."

 

"Now that would worry me",  I said, only half joking.
 

"Well, you've only just met me today.  How's your trust level?"
 

"You seem like a nice person to me."  I wasn't sure where the conversation was going, but I liked her company, so I didn't want to say anything to put her off.


"Well, I like you too, so I'm going to ask you something. I'm going to ask you to come back to my apartment with me.  If you don't want to go, I won't make you. Even though I could, if I wanted to." Her eyes bored into mine, and I knew without testing that, even if it wasn't true, she believed it was true. I'd felt the power in that arm, though, so I was inclined to believe already.  
 

"OK," I said, "Let me get the check."  I reached for the check, but before I got there, her hand had covered it.

 
"I've got this one," she smiled.


We drove in separate cars to her apartment, and it was obvious that she kept it slow so I could keep up. I'm a fairly cautious driver, and she's not.  Anyway, we got there, and I followed her up the stairs into her place. It was tastefully but sparsely decorated, with a large living room.  In the living room there was only a large overstuffed couch, a coffee table, and an entertainment center on the other side of the room.  She told me to make myself at home, asked if I wanted a beer or something, then told me she'd be back. I sipped on the beer, wondering what to make of this.  I was alone in the apartment of a pretty sexy woman, so who knows what could happen?  I could get lucky!  For those of you who are thinking how disgusting that sounds, all I can say is hey, most guys spend their whole lives thinking they may get lucky.  So anyway, there I was.
 

In a few minutes, Angela came out, and she had changed. She was wearing tight black one piece bathing suit, and had tied her long hair back in a ponytail.  Her shoulders were exposed, showing hard, round, striated bulges of muscle, and her upper arms were equally impressive.   Her legs were long and thin, but there was no doubt that they were powerful. Long ropes of hard muscle in her thighs snapped to attention, then relaxed as she walked back into the room. She spun around in a graceful pirouette, her ponytail flying out, and I got a good look at her back and shoulders.  She was breathtaking, and I must have been sitting with my mouth open.  She laughed again.


"Not what you expected?" she asked, as she plopped down beside me on the couch. She was close, and I did a quick mental comparison between her thighs and mine.  No contest. She looked thin, but her thighs were larger and harder than mine. She pressed her leg against mine, and pushed. Without any apparent effort on her part, my leg slid to the side. The warmth of her leg, and power of sexy girl in bathing suit was very erotic, and I had an almost immediate erection. I felt like a kid in school, sitting behind a cheerleader, and hoping it would subside before she noticed.  No chance.


"So, you really DO like strong girls, don't you?  Have you ever wrestled with a woman?"


"Ummmm..no, not really."  I was flustered.  
 

"Would you like to?"  She batted her eyelashes again, and there was no way I could say no.


"Sure, let's do it."  I already had an idea that I wasn't going to win, but I had no idea how badly I was going to lose.


"Well, I don't want to mess up your clothes, so maybe you should take off everything"  She smiled sweetly again. I didn't know what to think. Here I'd met this woman maybe 3 hours ago, and now she wanted me naked. Things don't get too much better than that, I didn't think. But I didn't know everything I was going to know yet. I did what she asked, and took off all my clothes, but then I felt self-conscious about it.  I'm not a body builder, far from it. I'm probably what bodybuilders call a pencil-necked geek. Angela was nice.  She didn't laugh, except at my discomfort.

 

"Hey, there's no need to be shy.  You have a good body, you're just thin. You look like you stay in pretty good shape, so this will be fun."  Her compliments helped, and I relaxed.


"What do we do now?" I asked.


"Now? You are naked, I have my combat outfit on. We both ready to play" she asked. "Now I'm going to kick your ass." I got another look at the smile;  not the friendly smile, the predatory one. I still didn't know what was in store for me, so I just stood there like an idiot as she came closer.  Not that it would have made much difference, but I didn't know that quite yet.  She came up close to me, standing just in front of me, and she was breathing a little hard.  Her eyes had taken on a far-away look, like she was somewhere else.  Up close like that, I admired her flat-as-a-board stomach, and the obvious power in her arms and 
shoulders. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around me, and held me close. Her mouth found mine, and she kissed me gently, then with increasing fervor.  Her hot, hard body felt great next to me. My naked cock touched a black lycra fabric of her swimsuit. The erection was back, and I didn't care that she could feel it. And she could feel it too, because she started thrusting her pelvis against me, in short powerful slaps. It was driving me wild. I put my arms around her, and ran my hands up and down her strong back, surprised at the width of her shoulders, and the depth of muscle in that back.  This woman was definitely a tiger, and I wanted what she had.


All at once, she stopped kissing me, and stopped moving her hips. Her arms still held me, but she pulled her face back a bit from mine, and looked into my eyes. That smile, that knowing smile, was still there, and I was suddenly afraid of what I'd gotten myself into.  Then she crushed me against her chest. Those sexy slim arms felt like steel bands, tightening on my chest with every breath.  Every time I exhaled, she tightened it up another notch.  It hurt, but since I'm a guy, I was determined not to admit that it did.  She continued to squeeze harder, until all the air was abruptly forced from my lungs.  I couldn't breathe! I couldn't get any air in, and my hands started clawing at her back, her rock-hard back. Then she bent forward at the waist, and my back was forced to give, in the wrong direction. The pain was incredible, but I couldn't do anything about it. I started pounding on her back, trying to get her to let up, but she just squeezed harder. I felt my ribs starting to creak. This woman was going to squeeze me to death with just her arms! The room began to swim before my eyes, and there were tears of pain there. Just before I passed out, she relaxed her grip, and I sucked in a desperate breath. The air stayed in my lungs for maybe 5 seconds, then she slammed it out of me again with those boa constrictor arms. Again, I was close to passing out, and Angela hadn't broken a sweat yet.  I remember seeing that smile on her face, and being very afraid. Just before I'd had enough, she released me, and I stood there, barely able to stand, swaying in the room, sucking air into my aching lungs.

 
"Had enough yet?"  She stood in front of me, hands on hips, looking very formidable.

 
"Yeah, that's it for me",  I said.  "You're too strong for me. I don't think wrestling you is a good idea."


"Well, that's just too bad, because we're just getting started. This is your fantasy.  You don't want to back out now, do you?"


I did, but as the pain subsided, I realized that she was right. I figured that if I could talk her into not hurting me, just using her strength, which I now knew was considerable, I could be a very happy man. I didn't take into account the possibility that she might be turned on by causing pain.


"I don't know, Angela. My ribs hurt, and my back hurts where you bent me backwards. My back doesn't do that very well."


"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," she cooed. "Let me make it up to you, then maybe we can play rough some more."


"I don't think I want to play that rough again." I was nervous, because I'd seen something in her eyes that was dangerous.


"What if I told you that you didn't have any choice?" That little smile was back, and she moved in close again. I backed up slightly, and she grinned. "A little nervous, are you? I won't hurt you, at least I won't hurt you permanently. Come on, let me give you what you want, even if you don't know you want it."

 
"Look, I gotta go." I was anxious to get out of there before she decided to do anything else to me.  "I've got some errands to run. Maybe we can shoot some pool again some time."


"You're not getting out of this that easily," she said, "but you can try to leave if you want.   You'll look funny out in the parking lot naked.  If you get to the parking lot, that is. I don't think you an, unless I let you go. And I don't feel like letting you go right ow."
 

Now probably some of you are thinking, geez, what a wimp! All she'd done to me so far was a hard bear hug, and she looked pretty good. It was the eyes.  Her eyes scared me, because this woman took what she wanted, whether others wanted to give it or not. It seemed to me like she had a bit of a mean streak. But I figured it was probably now or never, so I started across the room to pick up my clothes, and leave, and that's when she pounced. She stepped forward, and grabbed me again, locking her arms around me. Then she just spun quickly. My feet left the floor, and I was flung through the air, onto the couch. I hit pretty hard, and if the couch hadn't been there, I would have been hurt. She'd handled me like I weighed nothing. I barely had time to realize what had happened when she was on me again, dragging me off the couch onto the carpet. She dragged me into the center of the room, forced me onto my back, and sat on my chest, pinning my hands over my head.


"You didn't get too far that time, did you?", she laughed, as she bounced her hard butt on my chest a few times. I tried to arch up and throw her off, but she was too fast. She spread her legs wide for balance, and pressed hard on my wrists. I couldn't get her off, couldn't even wiggle my arms.  Her grip was like iron. As soon as I gave up, and relaxed for a minute, she rolled me back and forth, and somehow, my stomach ended up between those two hard legs. She had my neck locked into the crook of her left arm, still controlling my right hand with her right, and had left my left arm free.  I reached up to pull her arm away from my neck, and that's when the pain started. Those hard, wiry thighs just slammed shut on my belly, and the air blew out of my lungs. I couldn't believe the power in her legs.  I tried to pull away from her grip on my arm and neck, but was only able to flop around a little.  She had me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

 
"Stop it, that hurts!" I gasped.  I was running out of air rapidly, and couldn't breathe in.  She let up just a bit, and let me take a breath, then she squeezed again, a little harder this time.

 
"It hurts? Already?" Angela twisted me a little so she could reach down and give me a gentle kiss on my forehead.  I felt the hard bulge of her bicep on my neck. "Oh, it's going to hurt a lot more when I really squeeze you. I haven't even done it hard yet.  Feel this!"  With that, her thighs simply crushed my abdomen. I could feel my insides being squashed, and she ground her legs back and forth, while she pulled upward on my neck. It felt like I was being ripped in two. Then, as suddenly as it was applied, she released the pressure, and rolled me back on my back, with her laying on top of me.  She kissed me hard on the lips, then began to move sensuously on me, her hard body and rhythmic motions arousing me instantly. I was out of breath, hurting, and wondering what the hell was happening, but at the same time, I wanted her.  

 

"See how good that feels?" she whispered. "Do you have any idea how hard I can fuck you yet? I can wrap you up and pound you with my body until you're black and blue all over, and you can't stop me.  You can't do anything."


She was right.  I already knew that.  I didn't know how strong she was, but it was pretty clear that she was stronger than me. I ran my hands down her muscled back to her butt. I was scared of her, but I was hornier than I'd ever been, and I was willing to risk it.  Her glutes were big, round, and hard - this woman had a lot of power there. I suddenly had a vision of her using the strength in that butt to grind me to powder. My erection was a steel rod under her steel body. I feared the power in her body, but I still wanted to feel it, more than anything else in the world.

 
"So, what do you think?" she asked. "You want to be my slave? It doesn't really matter what you want, you know.  If I want you for my slave, you'll BE my slave, at least until I get tired of you."

 

"I'm not anybody's slave," I grumbled. I didn't like this slave talk. She looked down at me, and just laughed. "The only way you're not going to be my slave is if you move out of town, maybe even out of the state. If you stay around here, I'll find you, and I'll make you wish you'd agreed." As she said that, she locked her ankles with mine, and began to spread her legs apart.  I tried to stop her, but it was no use.  All that time she'd spent on the Solaflex made crushing my resistance easy for her. My knees were hurting, and my hips were in agony.  In addition to being a lot stronger than me, she was a lot more flexible, and she was pulling my legs into a position they weren't able to go. She moved her legs apart slowly, and the agony grew. I felt like a wishbone on Thanksgiving, ready to split in half.

 
"Oh, Goddess, stop!" I cried.  Tears were coming out of my eyes again, tears of pain, anger, frustration, and fear.

 

"You know, I could do this anytime to you. In public, in private, anywhere. I don't care. You should rethink how you feel about being my slave."  With that, she pushed her legs apart a bit further. I screamed.  I thought my hips were about to be dislocated. "So, what do you think, little man? Will you agree to serve me, or do I serve you, on a platter? You're going to break in half pretty soon."
 

"I'll do it, I'll do it. I'll do whatever you say! Just stop hurting me!"

 
"OK, I shall." She brought our legs back together, and untangled her ankles from mine. My hips ached and burned. "Just keep this in mind. Anytime I want, I can put you back in this hold, and I don't have to stop where I did. My legs would spread a lot further than they did, and I wasn't using nearly my full strength. I can split you open from bottom to top if I want to."


"What do I have to do as your slave?" I was resigned. This woman could maim, or even kill me with her body, if she wanted to. I was afraid of her, but I was also so turned on it hurt.  
"Whatever I want.  That's what being a slave is all about. Right now, I want a massage. And it had better be a good one, or I might snap your little neck with my legs."  She said that last with a smile, but it was that predator's smile again. I took her seriously. She rolled off me, and lay on her stomach. I knew better than to try to leave, so I figured I'd better go along until I had thought my options out pretty carefully. I started kneading her back. She had heavy slabs of muscle on her back and shoulders. It was really dense, and as I kneaded it, she'd tense and relax. The change was startling. Her back was like granite when she tensed up. I felt myself getting hard again. I worked over her shoulders, her back, her glutes, her quads, and her calves. She was very impressive, and the more I touched her, the hornier I got.

 
After about 20 minutes, my hands were getting tired. She noticed it, and quickly flipped over onto her back.  She took my wrists in her hands, and turned my hands back and forth. "You got tired pretty quickly, there, bucko, but it felt good while it lasted. You have talented hands. I like it. I guess you get to live." She flashed a little smile that made me realize that maybe she wasn't kidding. I had truly found my mistress!

Women vs men mixed martial arts is the sexiest of UFC actions in the world! When clothed woman beats a naked man it looks funny, sexy and really cool! Any gymanst, ballet dancer or female swimmer is a perfect athlete, let ballerina put her dance leotard on and we will see who is stronger - woman or man! Especially if they are colledge teens who fights each other in high school combat arena. Female advantage is her outfit, long sleeved gymnastics leotard or onepiece racing swim suit with t-back, it protects her feminine body and makes a girl more confident when her male opponent must fight nude, he has no chances against lady clad in sexy legless bodysuit. Female fighter defeats him with easy, just one swift kick in the balls and big muscle strong male begs her for mercy, scrambling under her feet like a real whimp! What a power of female legs - he can't resist and must worship and lick a feet and combat boots of his mistress who have defeated him with ballbusting attack!

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